


There's Magic in This Mini Mike

by literaryempress



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Boyfriends, Clubbing, Dancing, Dancing Lessons, Inspired by a Movie, Lapdance, M/M, Movie Reference, Seduction, Sexual Tension, Surprises, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 14:30:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6011248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryempress/pseuds/literaryempress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey's been awfully distant recently, and Ian thinks there's something wrong with him, but what Ian doesn't realize is that he's gonna have the time of his life at The Fairy Tale for Valentine's Day this year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's Magic in This Mini Mike

Ian may have called Mickey over twenty times this weekend. He had been very distant lately, and Ian had no idea what his deal was. Not just distant – secretive. Whenever he would write something down or search something on his phone, he would flinch whenever Ian was around. Whenever he was going somewhere, and Ian asked him if he could go with him, Mickey turned him down.

This has been going on for about a week, and Ian was starting to get worried about him.

“Nothing yet?” Fiona came in the boys’ bedroom to grab the dirty laundry for the day. She had some concerned undertones in her voice when she spoke. Before, Fiona didn’t care too much about Mickey Milkovich, and Ian wouldn’t have blamed her. The family name was nothing but chaos to the South Side of Chicago, for it brought so much fear. People would hide behind their curtain windows whenever Terry and his sons came strolling out of the house and onto the street.

Well, this doesn’t happen too much anymore, now that Terry is in prison and his sons are off doing their own thing.

Ian stared down at his lap, eyeing the home screen on his phone of his sleepy boyfriend. “You think he might be cheating on me?”

Fiona frowned after tossing one of Carl’s shirts into the basket. “Why do you think that?”

“He’s hiding something,” Ian stated. “I can sense it sometimes.” Fiona placed the basket on Ian’s before before plopping down next to her brother. “Last weekend, he came home later than he usually did. And he was supposed to be off work on Tuesday, but he said he had somewhere to go.”

Ian sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Actually, he’s been having somewhere to go all week.” A beat passed. “I don’t know. He might be ditching me.”

Fiona placed a hand on Ian’s shoulder blade. She loved her younger siblings so much. Specifically with Ian, she was tired of life fucking him up in every which direction. This kid can never catch a break. “You two love each other,” she responded, trying to encourage him as much as possible. “Mickey’s never not talkin’ about you. You’re the reason he ever comes over here, remember?”

The redhead shrugged. “I guess so.”

“I’m serious, Ian. Mickey doesn’t want anyone else but you, and I know deep down that you know that as well.” Another beat. “Besides, Valentine’s Day is coming up. Maybe he’s trying to get you something nice.”

“Mickey’s not into that.”

“What do you mean?”

There was a pause in the conversation before Ian chuckled, thinking to himself. “I sent him a photo of a teddy bear from the store last Valentine’s Day, and he was acting like a big baby about it.”

Fiona joined in on the laughter. “What did he say?”

Ian rolled his eyes, and his smile got bigger. “ _Where would we even put that shit_ , he said.”

“Mickey Milkovich complaining about clutter?”

“You’d be surprised.” Ian answered with a smile.

“I think I already am.” And that was awfully true. Mickey surprised many people since his and Ian’s relationship took off. If he was willing to come out to everybody in a South Side bar, he’s capable of literally doing everything and anything else. That’s what Ian loved the most, especially: that Mickey received the chance to grow within these past couple of years.

Fiona wrapped an arm around her brother and embraced him in a tight, loving hug. “Just be a little more patient with him. Who knows? Maybe we’re awaiting another surprise, don’t you think?”

Ian leaned into Fiona’s body, resting his head on her shoulder. He sighed. “I guess so.”

* * *

Mickey had no idea why he told himself he was doing this. It felt so fucking embarrassing.

Lately, he felt as though some of the adventure in his and Ian’s relationship had been lost since Ian’s new perspective on life after his diagnosis. Mickey didn’t like Ian feeling like shit every day. Mickey liked his Ian all happy and gushy and shit. That million-watt smile was what he fell in love with the moment he discovered his attraction to him, and now that he had some lifelong diagnosis getting in his way, it hurt knowing that Ian’s smile – _his_ smile – was somewhat a distant memory.

That’s why Mickey wanted to do something for Ian for Valentine’s Day this year. He hated the commercialism surrounding the holidays, especially Christmas, but if anything was going to bring that smile back on Ian’s face, it was going to be fucking worth it.

Ian still worked at the club downtown, as much as Mickey loathed it. The only reason Mickey still agreed to it was because of the money. Truth is, Svetlana could only pop out babies for so long, and the truck scam would have to end at some point, especially when the customers found out about their misplaced furniture. And Ian brought in about three hundred bucks a night.

How, though, was something Mickey didn’t want to concern himself with.

As much as Mickey loathed Ian’s employees, he still managed to call them up on the Monday before Valentine’s Day. He started getting goosebumps at the thought of even doing this. “Ay, you Ian’s friends or some shit?” Mickey began.

“Depends on who’s asking.”

“I don’t have time for the petty bullshit, Perez Hilton. I need to ask for a favor.”

“Yeah, sure. What’s up.”

Mickey gulped, though the nervous lump in it won’t go away. He never asked for anything like this – well, of course not; he’s not like those Boystown guys with the free will to shake their private parts and their limbs all over the place. This was the first time, he thinks, that he feels insecure about asking someone – someone he barely knew – to help him do something out of his comfort zone.

With a deep breath and a bite of his bottom lip, Mickey braved the elements and let it out without so much as a stutter. “I want to do something for Valentine’s Day for Ian, and…” He shrugged. “I may need you guys’ help.”

The way the guy’s voice perked up just now made Mickey cringe. “Ooh, nice. What did you have in mind?”

Mickey was silent for a moment, trying to piece together his words in the right way before he sucked in some more oxygen and tried explaining himself. “I was wondering if…maybe…you’d be willing to have a guest dancer Sunday night.”

* * *

The weekend felt so long without seeing Mickey. Ian had other stuff to do to occupy himself – babysit Yevgeny, play with Liam, help Fiona with house duties, talk with Debbie about her own problems – but Mickey was still on his mind. He still didn’t answer the goddamn phone, and Ian was starting to get a little worried, if not frustrated.

Sunday was Valentine’s Day, and most of the Gallaghers seemed to be up to something today. Fiona and Sean were heading downtown to have a nice dinner, Lip had already gone to Florida with Amanda, and Debbie and Derek were going to the movies with some friends. Ian could have sworn that Carl had something planned, but the girl he wanted to ask out, Domonique, turned her down. The only Gallagher without something planned, other than Ian and Carl, was Liam.

It was about six in the evening, and Carl and Ian were playing some really trashy video games when Ian felt his cell phone buzz in his pocket. He made his way into the kitchen to answer it, and when he saw the name on the screen, he knew he was about to throw a fit.

“Mickey, what the fuck?”

“Look, okay. I’m sorry that I didn’t call you back –“

“Are you really sorry?” Ian asked furiously. “I called you over forty times this weekend, and you didn’t reply to one fucking call? Not even a text?”

“I get it. You’re pissed with me, and you have every right to be –“ He heard an aggravated sigh over the phone before he continued. “I just need you to do something for me.” When he didn’t get a reply back, Mickey continued. “I want you to head back over to the house and pull the box from underneath the bed. It’s very important, and I need you to get it for me.”

“Mickey, what the fuck do you mean? What box?” Ian asked, confused. “And where do you want me to take it?”

Mickey’s eyes darted between the clock in front of him and the door to his right. “I can’t talk right now. I have to go.”

“Wait, Mick?”

The line had been disconnected before Ian could get anything else out of him. With an eye roll, Ian just headed to the coat rack and threw his coat on, telling Carl he had to run an errand before running out the door.

* * *

Tuesday afternoon had to be the most nerve-wracking day of Mickey’s life, if he never had one of those before.

He had gone to the club that day to talk with some of Ian’s friends, much to his own annoyance. He could have asked Svetlana to help him with his current situation, or even Mandy or Vee, for that matter; however, all of that felt too embarrassing. He didn’t want to have to think about them laughing in his face for the next three weeks.

That’s why he was here. These guys seemed like trained professionals, so it’s partially not bad.

“Well if it isn’t the bottom of the pyramid,” one of the dancers teased once Mickey walked in.

“Don’t get fucking smart with me, dough boy. I’m doing this for Ian. Remember that.”

“Of course,” a second one responded, and before Mickey had a chance to say anything else, he was dragged up on the little stage to his left. “Now follow my lead.”

Mickey watched as the second dancer – Walter, he believed – joined Mickey on the mini platform, standing on his hands and knees. Mickey watched as Walter slowly but seductively ground towards the floor, the midsection of his body doing a little wave as his ass bounced up and down in the air. Mickey was a shit dancer, he’d like to think sometimes, and the last thing he would like to be caught doing was shaking his ass in front of people he’s only known for a few minutes out of his day.

But the more often he was reminded that this was for his ginger-headed boyfriend, the more motivated he got. With that, Mickey awkwardly began rolling his body, trying to match Walter’s rhythm, only to be stopped by one of the other dancers.

“Honey, don’t be so tight,” the first dancer, Greg, started to speak again.

Mickey scoffed and mumbled under his breath, “easy for you to say.”

“Come here,” Greg said, and before Mickey had a chance to move, he was already by his side, placing one hand on Mickey’s back and another on his stomach. “Right here, don’t have this too tight. It’ll look like you’re trying to hard.”

“Yeah, loosen up a little,” Walter added.

“I don’t expect for you guys to expect for me to take your advice so well when I’m about to do this in front of a shit ton of queens.” Saying all of that out loud made Mickey more nervous than he was before.

“Be honest with yourself,” a third dancer, Jonas, spoke up. “Who are you trying to impress here: Ian, our customers, or yourself?” A part of Mickey didn’t even think about that. “You’re planning this for that one special person in your life, right?” Mickey nodded. “So in reality, no one else matters.”

Greg began to snicker. “That is, unless someone slips him a dollar from behind –“

Mickey felt sick even thinking about the old bastards that would be trying to stick dollars in his ass. “God, fuck – can we move on already? I didn’t need that sick fantasy bullshit.” Greg and Walter smirked off to the side while Jonas gave them both glares, getting up on the platform with a chair.

“Alright then,” Jonas continued, sitting down in the chair, kicking Mickey in the butt while doing so. “We’ll get back to your rolls, but for right now, I want you to give me a lap dance.”

Mickey frowned. “Excuse me?”

“I want you to pretend that I’m Ian and focus on your movements. Remember what I said. This is all for Ian, and nothing else matters. Got it?”

Sometimes Mickey struggled with trying to put all of his thoughts on Ian when he was to sit on some stranger’s lap and dance for him. The best image of Ian he could come up with when he adjusted himself above Jonas was of Ian with a total bed head underneath the sheets while the two fooled around. It had to be the sexiest look Mickey has ever seen, and he was going to punch himself in the dick if he was going to grow a boner right now.

Mickey held onto Jonas’ shoulders as he began moving his butt onto his lap. Sometimes things are easier said than done, but there were some exceptions, Mickey will admit.

* * *

Ian had no idea why in the hell he had on this get-up – a red button-down shirt with black dress pants and shoes, accompanied with a gold chain. At first, he was expecting some kind of romantic dinner or some shit, but after reading the note Mickey left with the clothes – _Club. Seven. Give the bouncer your name. Don’t ask._ – Ian assumed that he had something else planned.

What was actually planned was uncertain, though Ian had a giddy feeling that he knew what was up.

He got off the CTA bus and walked the rest of the way through Boystown in downtown Chicago. When he got to the bar he usually worked at, a man with a leather jacket on gave Ian his direct attention as if he was expecting him.

“Um…” Ian stuttered. “I’m Ian. I work here, but my boyfriend said to give you my name.”

“Ah yes,” the bouncer replied. “You’re the guy?” Ian nodded, and the bouncer snapped his fingers twice. When he did, two men with zipped-up, thick sweaters came out and grabbed Ian by the arms before bringing him inside. The one on Ian’s right side was whispering something through a walkie-talkie, and Ian was more confused than he was before.

The two men stopped by the archway in the club, and Ian took the opportunity to look up at the red heart lights wrapped around the wide, white archway that the three men were standing in. They were beautiful. The red hearts matched the red light reflecting off the disco ball in the center of the room. Ian could stare at them all day, if he could.

A familiar voice from one of the dancers caught Ian off guard. The redhead’s eyes found Walter standing beside a platform near the middle of the room, though there were a bunch of other men in Ian’s line of sight as well. It was almost hard to see. “Alright, little flames. How’s everyone doing tonight?” Walter spoke through a handheld microphone, and the whole room erupted in cheers and applause.

“Alright,” Walter continued, “we have one of our dancers here among us tonight. Unfortunately, he’s not the one putting on the show for us, but best believe, there will definitely be a show, am I right?” There were several howls and cheers, and Ian’s heart rate immediately picked up.

_Was this what Mickey was up to the whole time?_

“Is he here in the room right now, do you think?” Walter asked everyone, and all of the men began turning their heads.

One of them in an expensive, brown suit immediately spotted Ian three steps away from him and started calling to Walter, much to Ian’s quick embarrassment. The two men walked Ian towards the middle of the room, and everyone parted like the Red Sea just so the three could make it through.

Walter had a wide grin on his face when Ian’s face came into view. Ian started to mouth, “what in the hell was going on?” Walter didn’t reply; instead, he brought a red chair right next to him, patting the seat so the men could bring Ian right on over.

“Hey, hot stuff.” Walter spoke into the microphone, placing a comforting hand on Ian’s shoulder. “We’ve been looking all over for you.” Ian started to roll his eyes but then stopped himself because this set-up, to him, was just hilarious and impressive. “I regret to inform you that we have someone filling your shift for the night.”

When the microphone was aimed at Ian, the redhead just chuckled. “It’s too bad that I can’t do my show today, I guess.” He received some heartfelt laughs from people around him.

“Hey, but guess what?” Walter spoke again. “You’re not leaving here empty-handed, for we have a really great surprise for you.”

“Is that right?”

“Of course. You ever heard of a little film called _Magic Mike_?” Walter asked suggestively, earning some cheers from people around the room.

Ian giggled. “Yeah, saw it once with my boyfriend. I don’t know if he likes it or not.”

“Well then, I don’t know if your boyfriend’s gonna be too happy, because we actually have Magic Mike joining us tonight.” When the cheers erupted through the room again, Ian got confused once more.

“Wait, you did?”

“Damn right,” Walter responded before turning away from Ian to snap his fingers at the DJ on the balcony. “DJ, wanna help me out?” It was silent for about five seconds before a song from the aforementioned movie – _Pony_ by Ginuwine – started to play, causing all of the guys in the room to go extremely wild.

Ian’s jaw dropped at the sound of the music playing, but that wasn’t what shocked him. What shocked him the most was the crowd of men splitting up on Ian’s right, where a short man in a tight, white, sleeveless top with gray sweats and a red hat approached the scene.

It was Mickey dressed as Magic Mike.

The sight of Mickey in his outfit caused Ian to cover his mouth with his hand, making Mickey smirk in response. He looked up at the two men still on either side of Ian, inching his eyebrows and watching as they tied Ian’s hands to the chair with red ribbons. If this was going to work, he had to get Ian to sit still in his seat, because nothing said _happy Valentine’s Day_ more than giving his boyfriend the ride of his life.

Ian grinned once he noticed Mickey stroll in front of Ian with a hand clutching onto his waistband. He really couldn’t believe that Mickey was actually here doing something like this. “Mickey?” he called over the commotion, his smile still on his face.

Mickey kept his cool, despite his heart bumping against his rib cage. “Hold on tight, Gallagher.”

The moment Mickey started to move was when Ian immediately felt turned on. Mickey’s hips moved with the rhythm, and his ass followed his hips’ every direction. The men around the two were cheering uncontrollably, some of them throwing money towards the center of the room where Mickey was. Although Ian wondered how upset Mickey would get if the men were treating him like some sex object, and wanted nothing more than to get Mickey away from these older men, he also wanted to let Mickey lead them for the night.

Ian bit his lip as Mickey strolled over to Ian’s lap, turning around and sitting on his left leg, shaking his butt and making Ian’s entire body twitch. Mickey was off Ian’s leg in a second, dropping down in front of Ian’s open legs and making the crowd go wild. Mickey’s foot was on the area of the chair in between Ian’s legs, his ass shaking once again, and Ian was tempting to slap him there before remembering that his hands were tied behind his back.

Mickey then fell down to the ground, doing a little worm with his leg up a bit. If his intention was to rub his foot up against Ian’s dick, it was most definitely working, for Ian started biting down furiously on his bottom lip, and a smirk suddenly appeared on Mickey’s face. The shorter man was now on his knees, thrusting down the ground and his butt up in the air. More money was being thrown in Mickey’s direction, though not one dollar amount could compare to the look on Ian’s face.

Ian watched Mickey slide away from him, his left knee still on the ground. Mickey started to grip onto the bottom of the white shirt as he rolled his entire body again, sticking his tongue out a bit to lick his lips. The guys behind him continued to howl as Mickey got up to a squatting-to-standing position, seductive eyes still on Ian. Ian licked his own lips and shifted in his seat, trying to maintain the growing erection in his pants.

With another spin of his entire body, Mickey made his way back over to Ian, keeping up with the rhythm of the song as it played in the background. As he stood up on the chair in between Ian’s legs, he heard Ian say, “so this is my present, huh?”

Mickey looked down at him and ruffled his hair, still trying to maintain his balance. “Shut the fuck up and let me ride you, bitch.” With a thrust of his pelvis in Ian’s face, Mickey jumped backwards, two dancers flipping him over perfectly. He was never the gymnastics type, so he couldn’t do an actual back flip, but he wanted to flip upside down just to make this whole thing look impressive as he wanted it to be.

He didn’t have to worry, with Ian watching.

Not even a second later, Mickey was on Ian’s right side and held onto the seat of the chair as he flipped himself over. Now he was upside down in front of Ian on the chair, gripping onto the seat as best as he could while his ass shook in the air once again. Mickey’s dick was dangerously close to Ian’s face and vice versa, but it wasn’t like Ian was complaining. Actually, Ian didn’t even know that Mickey could even perfect a hand stand, much less one on a chair with his boyfriend sitting in it. Walter, Greg, and Jonas must have taught him well.

Mickey flipped back over and eyed his boyfriend with an inch of his eyebrows before closing his legs a bit and sitting back down on his lap. He could feel the hardness of Ian’s dick in between his ass crack and wanted to acknowledge it so bad, but that would just break his character. So he just shook his butt once again, drowning himself in the feel of Ian beneath him.

Ian craned his head back as the feel of Mickey’s butt on his lap took over him. Mickey was leaning forward, still twerking on Ian’s lap, his tattooed hands eventually reaching the ground. He was having too much fun with this, though he never really considered doing this kind of thing again. Maybe a few times with some privacy and more seductive music, though, because Mickey was enjoying himself more than he should.

When Mickey turned himself around on Ian’s lap, he continued to move his hips, his hand reaching down in between them to grip Ian’s dick just a little, earning a moan out of Ian’s mouth. “Bet you fuckin’ missed me, huh?” Mickey whispered into Ian’s ear.

Ian’s voice came out very rough, but that’s just the way Mickey liked it. “Like fuckin’ hell I did.”

Mickey smiled, still dancing to the music. “Happy Valentine’s Day, ass wipe,” he responded, leaning into Ian and giving him the longest, sloppiest kiss ever imaginable. Everyone around them was shouting louder, the music almost forgotten, but all Ian and Mickey could hear were each other’s moans.

**Author's Note:**

> I watched Magic Mike in my dorm building with my roommates for the first time this weekend, and I couldn't unsee everything I witnessed. Actually, some of this was typed before I watched the movie, and after watching the movie, that Lip Sync Battle video with Channing Tatum and his wife, Jenna, came back up in my mind. That's how the rest of this story was created, lmao.
> 
> This is for everyone who's feeling down in the dumps this year, especially after everything that has happened. Hopefully I can cheer you up a tad, even if it's by only 1%. It's the least I can do.
> 
> And happy Valentine's Day, everyone. <3


End file.
